Finish What Was Started
by waiting4morning
Summary: Tragic Marker has just been released and Ren receives an offer for the role of the lifetime. He must decide that it means for his career and what it will mean for his relationship with Kyoko. Spoilers up to 207. Complete!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** According to the internet, a decent move takes about 18 months to make, from start to finish. This fic takes place about a month or two after the release of Tragic Marker, so it would be almost a year from chapter 207. Spoilers up to 207.

* * *

_The woman with the gleaming million-yen smile, grins at her co-host. "And last but certainly not least on tonight's top five movies of the year, Tragic Marker!"_

_"For those of you under a rock somewhere, Tragic Marker is the little horror movie that could," agreed the woman's co-star, a sleek-haired man with cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. "Taking the box office by storm, none of the critics expected it to do as well as it did."_

_"Horror movies usually do decently at the box office," said the woman, reading from the prompter, "but everyone was surprised when Tragic Marker showed enough staying power to compete even with summer blockbusters."_

_"And what's the mystery about the success of this movie?" grinned the man. "The identity of the actor who played B.J.! I tell you what, Yukiko-san, Director Konoe really knew what he was doing. I have to admit I wondered if the movie would have done half so well if no one was wondering about the identity of the mysterious B.J."_

_"And Tokyo's Entertainment TV has the exclusive reveal!" said the woman, leaning forward eagerly. "You've all heard the rumors, but see them confirmed or denied… please welcome Cain Heel!"_

"Are they still running that episode?"

Yashiro turned the TV down a bit, turning as Ren walked into the dressing room.

"I never get tired of seeing it." Yashiro grinned. "Your first international hit, Ren! Even Hollywood movie critics are taking notice."

"That's true," Ren admitted, settling down into his chair and loosening his tie. He was early. The makeup artist wouldn't arrive for another fifteen minutes. Yashiro turned off the TV.

"I don't think I ever asked," Yashiro said, picking up his attaché and opening it on the table in the room, "but was Kyoko-chan ever revealed as Cain Heel's sister?"

"Not on any of the interviews," Ren said, removing his jacket and hanging it up in the space provided. "She made a private reveal to the cast and crew the same time I did, but requested to be out of the limelight since she wasn't even in the movie. She wasn't in any of the cast photos, so no journalists have even asked to see her."

"Ah," Yashiro said, "that's a shame. I'd hoped that her star would rise a little, even if it was by association with you and not due to an actual part in the movie."

Ren didn't have a reply to that. He wondered now what hadn't occurred to him before: had she declined a public reveal because of the association with him? No… she wasn't that prideful… after all, she'd once admitted to him that one of the reasons she'd taken on Fuwa Sho's Prisoner PV was so that she could use the visual kei musician as a stepping stone.

"I'm happy to have all my doubts about TM unjustified," Yashiro said happily, organizing the stack of offers Ren had received in the mail that day. He'd meant to do it before Ren arrived but had gotten distracted by the TV. "I didn't think TM would be good for your career, but you do know what you're doing sometimes."

"Thank you, Yashiro-san," Ren said in a dry voice. "That means a lot coming from a manager like yourself."

"Anytime," the older man said breezily. He turned his attention to his schedule book for a moment. "Are you meeting Kyoko-chan for dinner tonight as usual?"

Ren glanced up at his manager, suspicion narrowing his eyes, but Yashiro's unusually calm face revealed nothing.

"As far as I know..." He closed his mouth, not wanting to reveal more, though it was a fruitless exercise. Yashiro already knew the extent of his feelings for Kyoko, even though he'd never spoken them directly out loud. The end of Tragic Marker shooting had been a bit of a slump for him and Kyoko. The depression post-B.J. was a surprise for Ren. Black Jack was a murderous fiend—not a particularly deep role and not the best character he'd ever played or his favorite. He wasn't sure why he was feeling the blues like he had the day Dark Moon had ended filming.

Then there'd been a cast party, celebrating the end of principle photography, and Director Konoe had requested that Cain and Setsuka make at least one appearance. The rush of pleasure he'd felt at being able to reprise his character again made him realize what his feelings stemmed from: he didn't miss the role of B.J., he missed the role of Cain Heel.

But most of all, he missed being able to see Kyoko as often as he was used to. They'd gone through several months of filming together, of being able to be together at least once every day. And then for it to be over was… wrenching.

They'd grown closer over the course of the Heel sibling routine—not even Ren could deny that, even though he still doubted that Kyoko thought of him the way he thought about her. His reunion with her in Guam as "Corn" the fairy prince had proved that if anything had. But still, she was opening up to him in a way he hadn't thought possible before… and he had hopes that her wounds were finally healing, that he was making progress to cross the line from respected senpai to friend, and someday… maybe someday soon… he could tell her what he had felt for two long years and she wouldn't immediately run away.

The first step he'd taken had been a calculated risk: after the cast party, he could see that she was feeling a bit down as he was.

"I think I'm going to miss your cooking," he said into the night air. They were leaving the party, which was still raging on behind them. Cain and Setsuka, however, weren't the types to stay and socialize and so they'd left early. No one else seemed to mind—though there had been an outpouring of drunken fondness inexplicably expressed for them both as they left.

She glanced at him quickly and then back down, eyes sad. "Yes… I will miss cooking for you." Her cheeks bloomed a little pink.

"Mogami-san…" he hesitated, then plunged forward. "Would it be too much to ask… when your schedule permits…. to come and cook dinner for me? I think…" he added hurriedly, seeing her expression freeze, "that it would help the transition for both of us. Not every day, of course… maybe just… twice a week?" Then he added the finishing blow. "I think I eat better when you cook for me."

It was true, after all. He always felt guilty if he didn't at least attempt to eat everything she put on his plate. Shame alone ensured that he had some bits of a healthy meal in his stomach.

Her face softened then and she nodded, still blushing. "I… I would like that."

That had been two months ago. Whatever transition Ren had used as an excuse had long since passed. Kyoko was at work at her new drama—a bullying role again, but she played the main heroine's sister, a direct foil to her, so her character was actually in some ways a second main character. Ren was happy for her to be in such a good position as an actress and knew that if she continued to embrace her roles as she had done with Setsu and Natsu, then there wouldn't be an end to what roles she could do. Their dinner nights—Ren refused to think of them as "dates"—were the highlights of his week. Whatever stress he encountered, he knew he could count on her to listen with a sympathetic ear, to scold him when he needed it, and to lend an air of cheer to his large, empty apartment.

Yashiro snapped his fingers in front of Ren's face. He blinked, then cleared his throat, avoiding the gleeful expression that was on his manager's face.

"Sheesh, I only have to mention Kyoko's name and you go off into la-la land for good… ten minutes? That's a new record," Yashiro said, chuckling to himself in a self-satisfied kind of way.

Ren willed his cheeks not to blush and walked to the rack of costumes in the dressing room, pretending to look for the one he needed to change into. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said smoothly. "But yes, as far as I know, Mogami-san is coming over to make dinner."

"Good," Yashiro said, closing his book, and returning to the mail. He sat out a few more items then tapped a large stack of scripts, his eyes suddenly serious. "Now, these are the suspense/horror offers, but you're also getting a respectable amount for other genres as well. Just today it looks like you've got a sci-fi action/adventure, more than a few romantic comedies, another historical drama…" His voice trailed off.

Ren looked up from the costume rack. Yashiro was staring open-mouthed at an envelope with swirls of dark post-office stamps all over the front as if the thing contained a confession of love.

"Yashiro-san?"

Yashiro glanced up at his charge and then slowly offered the envelope to him. "Ren…" he said in an awed voice. "It's from Flagship Entertainment… in the United States."

Ren's heart made an escape attempt through his throat, but he took the script calmly as if he received offers from the entertainment capital of the world every day. Flagship Entertainment's logo—a pirate ship firing a volley of cannonballs—was emblazoned across the top of the cover letter. The offer was short and sweet: they wished him to audition for a supporting role in an adaptation of a book that had been at the top of the bestseller charts in the U.S.: a historical drama about a Japanese family forced into the internment camps in California during World War II. The main character was actually the daughter of the family—a hard-working girl who had fallen in love with an American soldier. The character they wanted Ren to audition for was her twin brother who was very close to his sister and tried to protect her and their aging parents from the cruel guards and her growing infatuation with the soldier.

It was the opportunity he'd been dreaming of ever since moving away from the United States at fifteen.

_"I'll stay with this look and style as the Japanese actor Tsuruga Ren, until I return to the U.S. on my own efforts and become a successful actor."_

"Ren?" Yashiro's voice made him look up. His manager looked worried. "You suddenly looked so pale… what's wrong?"

Ren felt a slow smile start at the corners of his mouth until it grew so wide it felt like his whole face was smiling.

"Nothing, Yashiro-san. Nothing at all."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Chapter 208 anyone? I'm dying over here. DYING I SAY.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

The President looked over the rims of his reading glasses at Ren, and blew a cloud of cigarette smoke off to the side.

"I assume you are going to answer this today, yes?"

Ren nodded. "Yashiro-san has blocked off some time for filming my audition tape today. But I wanted to let you know… and I assume you'll want to watch the audition as well."

"Of course," the President said, handing back the letter from Flagship Entertainment. He eyed Ren with one of his trademark somber expressions.

Ren smiled, interpreting the older man's silence to mean that he should exercise caution. "Don't worry, sir, I'm not getting my hopes up. After all, there are plenty of talented actors in the States to choose from—"

Lory shook his head. "Actually, I think you should have great expectations, Ren. Flagship is known for selecting up-and-coming actors outside of the United States. That they've taken notice of you here in Japan is a testament to your abilities and that they are seriously considering you for the role." He took one last drag on his cigarette and stubbed it out in a nearby ashtray. "What I'm worried about is if you've taken into consideration what a move like this will mean for you, not just your career."

Ren blinked. "What do you mean? This… is what I've wanted for nearly seven years. The fact that it's happening… I mean, I hoped of course, but I didn't think I would get an offer like this for another another couple of years, if not longer."

Lory steepled his fingertips, his dark eyes steady. "Let's say your audition goes well, you get a call back, and the best happens: you land the role. You'd be leaving Japan, Ren, and everyone else behind." He paused. "Just don't forget that in the midst of your good fortune, there are going to be some sacrifices you must make."

#

Kyoko inspected the avocados carefully in the grocery store, squeezing them gently to check for ripeness. She had to pick up a few things before arriving at Tsuruga-san's apartment for dinner tonight. At the thought, a warm feeling spread through her, and she could feel her mouth curling upward in a happy smile.

She shook her head to shake the smile loose, patting her face to make sure the incriminating evidence of her emotions had vanished. Once Tragic Marker was done, she had expected that her unfortunate feelings for Tsuruga-san would settle back down into the normal, acceptable range of admiration and respect. After all, she told herself that it was natural to fall in love with someone whom you spent a lot of time with. Without Tragic Marker keeping them together for several hours a day, everything would go back to normal.

Except, it hadn't.

Kyoko walked with her basket through the store, heading back toward the seafood counter. Her box where she'd kept her heart under lock and key now refused to shut and it hurt every time she tried, as if her heart had grown too large to fit inside such a confined space. That was what she had warned herself about, wasn't it? Pain and love. They always went hand in hand.

But this was different, she tried to tell herself. This pain was bearable because Tsuruga-san didn't know of her treacherous heart. He wasn't Fuwa Sho to take her affection and rip it to shreds. As long as she kept her feelings to herself, she could endure. She would even learn to smile if Tsuruga-san ever brought the woman he loved out into the open.

Misery clenched her gut, and she inhaled deeply, angry at herself. _Your pride as an actress is at stake,_ she reminded herself. _You will smile and you will be friendly to her… whoever she is._ But the truth of the matter was, she knew she would be heartbroken when that day came. And not just because of what she felt for him but because a girlfriend would mean a change in their relationship. A girlfriend would not want another girl fixing his meals or speaking to him on a regular basis. Tsuruga-san getting a girlfriend would mean that Kyoko would see him even less than she did now, and the thought of that made her ache.

Not for the first time, she wondered what progress he was making—if any—with the high school girl he had feelings for. Tsuruga-san hadn't spoken to Bo in a very long time; not since the days of Dark Moon filming when she'd shown up in half a duck costume to get him to speak of his feelings, trying to help him with Katsuki's love issues. At that time, he'd admitted to being in love, but also said that he wasn't going to reveal it. Was he still determined to keep his feelings to himself even though it hurt to do so? Kyoko stopped in the the middle of an aisle, realization making her eyes widen.

Tsuruga-san was just like her: he too felt trapped in feelings that he didn't want to express. Maybe… maybe there was hope for their relationship after all. Maybe it didn't have to change. Maybe it could stay the way as it always had, and she could be his kohai for a little while longer. She would be able to keep seeing him like she was used to, and this other girl could stay in the shadows.

Hope buoyed her steps as she finished her shopping.

#

"Good evening, Tsuruga-san!" Kyoko's cheerful smile greeted him at the door that evening.

He summoned up his usual smile as he stepped aside to let her in. "Good evening, Mogami-san. How was your day?"

He participated in idle chitchat while she came in and began setting out the things she would need for the night's meal: chirashi-zushi.

"Special occasion?" he asked as he reached into his high shelf to reach for the pans she would need. She ducked underneath him to rummage around in a cabinet more on her level.

"I heard about your good news," she said, going to his pantry and selecting a bag of rice. She'd been coming over often enough that his pantry was well-stocked with essentials.

Ren barely managed to keep from dropping the items he was holding. Had the President told her about the offer from Flagship? He'd been trying to think of a way to tell her himself, but had decided that it wouldn't be good to upset her when nothing might come of the audition. If he got a call-back, he'd tell her then, that's what he'd decided. He'd heard the note of sadness in her voice and felt a little twinge of selfish irritation rise up in him. What right did she have to be upset? She should be happy for him. This opportunity was one he'd been waiting for his whole professional life: a chance to prove to the country of his birth that he was a worthy actor on his own merits and not his father's career. Besides, it wasn't as if she gave him a reason to stay…

"I heard that you've been asked for another exclusive interview with Tokyo Entertainment TV," she continued, filling the pan he'd given her with water. "That's a pretty big deal! Not even Murasame-san and Manaka-san have been asked for interviews with them." She set the pan on the counter and began scooping rice into it.

Ren had to turn away to hide the self-loathing on his face. How could he have been angry with Kyoko? Was his own selfishness so entrenched? He smoothed out his face with an effort and managed a smile.

"Ah, yes. It's a little embarrassing," he said, watching as she swirled the rice around in the water. "I tried to convince the producer to call us all on for a group interview of the main cast, but they said they were only interested in Cain Heel. I guess Director Konoe's plan to stir up hype worked." He glanced at her face as she dumped the water out and filled the pan again. "Is something wrong?"

She blinked, startled, and blushed. "N-no… I just… it's silly… but I sometimes still miss Setsu," she said, not meeting his eyes.

He restrained himself from touching her arm: that was a habit he missed the most as Cain. Just… to be able to casually touch her… not even necessarily romantic, but a touch on her hand, a brush against her shoulder, his hand at the small of her back. It was a very American thing to wish for, he realized. His father—half American—was so effusively affectionate that his Japanese roots sometimes didn't show at all. His mother, half Russian, had loved to touch as a demonstration of affection: whether it was a full on hug or a simple kiss on the cheek. Personal restraint was one of the first lessons the President had given him when he was creating the character of Japanese actor Tsuruga Ren. He hadn't realized he missed the casual gestures until he'd began using them with Setsu.

"It's normal to miss a role you enjoyed," he reassured her, holding the refrigerator door for her as she crouched in front of it to remove a few eggs, a jar of bamboo shoots, and a cucumber. "We had some good times, didn't we?"

"Yes," she said softly, her blush deepening.

Ren looked away, getting out a cutting board to give her a moment to compose herself. He knew what she was remembering… because he couldn't help but think of it too. That night… when she'd shattered the darkness holding him captive, when her lips had met his skin for the first—and so far only—time.

Ren raised his head as he realized something: it was her. She had been the one who'd freed him—freed Kuon. Without her, he wouldn't be able to accept the offer that he had just auditioned for because he'd still be trapped by that bitterness and rage that had lain simmering beneath the surface for so many years.

He didn't deserve her.

"How is your new drama going?" he asked, changing the subject to a safer area. He pulled a daikon out of the grocery bag and began to scrub it in the sink.

"Oh it's really interesting!" she said, lighting up as she took a knife and began to julienne the cucumber. "Jun came much easier than I was expecting and the director has been happy with my interpretation of her character so far."

He smiled. "I thought that might be the case. You haven't come to me for any advice this time." He tried to keep the wistful note out of his voice.

Kyoko peeped up at him shyly. "Well… it's because of you that I was able to find Jun so easily. She's… very much like Cain, actually, and when I realized that, everything just clicked."

Ren stared at her. "What?"

"Well, she's not a rich young lady of dignity, like Mio," said Kyoko, accepting the daikon he'd rinsed and chopping off the ends. "Neither is she a 'normal high-school girl' like Natsu." She blinked as if realizing something and a panicked look crossed her face. "I don't mean to say she's a-a clone of Cain—not at all! But Cain only loved his sister, just like Jun only loved her father. Except Jun's father is dead, which is why she sank even further into her depression and bullies her sister just to feel something. I… tried to imagine what Cain would be like if Setsu died…" Her expression fell. "It's… so sad… and dark…"

"Why not use Setsu a your inspiration?"

Kyoko shook her head, her knife chopping the daikon into smaller pieces with breathless efficiency. "Because Jun has no fashion sense at all. She wears these awful baggy clothes and no makeup."

Ren laughed at the tone of her voice. "I take it Jun-chan is a bit of a tomboy?"

"Not.. on purpose, I think," Kyoko said thoughtfully, gathering up the chopped vegetables and placing them in individual bowls. Then she reached into her grocery bag and withdrew a package of sashimi. "I think Jun was a late bloomer… her sister always got all the attention because she's pretty, talented, and smart. Jun is just as smart, but she's not as pretty and doesn't know how to dress herself to make herself look as good, so she got teased a lot as a child. But the teasing only made her mean, not shy." She paused, blushing. "I'm sorry, I got to rambling a bit there. Please, tell me how your day was, Tsuruga-san?

Ren hesitated. He realized that he did want to tell her about the audition, about his hopes… what would she say? Would she support him? Would she even care?


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Ren opened his mouth to tell Kyoko about Flagship's letter, but then he looked at her, saw her wide, trusting eyes and couldn't bear to see the hurt reflected there. Or worse, indifference. No… it was too soon anyway. The audition might come to nothing. He didn't want to raise his own hopes so high.

"Well, I prepped for the interview," he said, turning to throw the empty grocery bags away. "Then I had an Armandy photo shoot for a magazine spread. There was also a shoot for _Fragile World_."

"That's your historical drama, right?"

Ren nodded. It felt strange for her not to know his schedule. Now that he thought about it, even before Tragic Marker, they'd had a close working relationship. With Dark Moon, most days they had been on set together, and of course Yashiro would manage to make sure that they ate a meal together at least once. So really, this was the first time in over a year that they weren't working closely with one another. The thought made him feel lonely.

To distract himself, he gestured to the avocados with a questioning look.

"Not yet," she said, shaking her head. "If I cut them now, they'll only get brown before the rice is ready." She checked the clock. "It still has a few minutes more to soak."

"Yeah," he replied to her earlier question, putting the avocados back on the counter and going instead to the fridge for some tea. "I play Prince Harashima." He darted a look at her, anticipating her reaction to the word "prince."

Sure enough, her hands were clasped in front of her and her eyes were shining, gazing out on a fairy tale landscape that only she could see.

He chuckled behind his can of tea. "I'm afraid the role isn't very romantic… and it's not even one of the lead roles. I usually don't do historical dramas, so I accepted a minor role to get my feet wet."

"It's good for actors not to get conceited," she said thoughtfully, nodding as she turned on the stove underneath a frying pan and began cracking eggs into a bowl, whisking them into a frenzy of yellow froth.

"Hmm?" He raised his brows at her unintentional insult and had to hide a laugh as her face grew red.

"Oh!" she said, eyes wide with panic, her whisk pausing its frantic swishing. "I-I didn't mean to imply… it's just something that sensei said once."

_Sensei?_ Ren thought in puzzlement, but then remembered that was how she referred to Kuu sometimes.

Kyoko poured some of the egg mixture into the pan, just enough to coat the bottom, and the smell of cooking egg filled the room.

"What did he say?" he prompted.

"Well, now that I think about it," she said, frowning, "it was something he said about newbie actors not being picky about what roles they take. That wouldn't apply to you at all. I'm sorry I mentioned it."

Ren considered her for a moment. "It is good advice regardless of your status in showbiz, I think," he said, watching as she expertly flipped the thin sheet of cooked egg onto the cutting board and poured a fresh layer of raw egg into the pan. "I like stretching my acting muscles with roles that I'm not used to. It's partly why I accepted the role of Cain Heel and B.J. That was truly my first villainous role. I'd only done minor villains before then: the average jerk in the office, or a jealous ex-boyfriend: that kind of thing."

"What about Katsuki? He had villainous motives for taking revenge."

"True," Ren conceded. "Even Katsuki, however, is saved by his love for Mizuki and renounces his immoral behavior."

"I hope…" she said in a soft voice, staring at the egg with blank eyes. Her hand was on the pan's handle, but she didn't seem to see it at all. "I hope that someday… someday I can be given a non-bullying role."

Ren moved closer, sliding his hand over hers as it rested on the pan's handle. She jerked at his touch, but he calmly lifted the pan—her hand still attached—off the heat and flipped the slightly smoking egg onto the small stack she'd already created.

"It was getting over done," he said, letting go of her hand.

The dazed expression faded from her face and dismay replaced it. "Oh no! I hope it won't be rubbery." She hovered over the stack of egg, fingers poised as if to poke the topmost one.

"Mogami-san, I think it's time for the rice," he pointed out, glancing at the clock. Unseen by her, he gently flexed the fingers that had touched her hand. They felt warm.

"Oh!" She moved to set down her bowl of raw egg and picked up the pan with the soaking rice. He plucked it from her hands and set it on the stove.

"I can do the rice," he said with a smile.

"A-are you sure?" she said hesitatingly. Ren had to hide a laugh. She was too polite to doubt out loud. But the last time he'd cooked—the maui omu rice—had ended with him tossing and turning half the night and even Kyoko's famously polite face had wavered after she tasted it.

"Rice is easy," he said breezily. "Besides, you'll watch me to make sure I do it right."

She nodded, looking a bit reassured and went back to her egg frying.

Ren glanced at her as he watched the rice—he had to bring the water to a boil and then immediately turn it to low—his eyes falling again to her hands. He smiled.

"I thought you received an offer for a non-bullying role last month?" He continued, picking up the thread of their previous conversation.

"Yes," she said with a sigh, "but its filming schedule conflicted with my current job. I had to turn it down." She brightened slightly. "But I have been able to do some minor non-bullying roles. I usually don't have many lines—all the bullying roles are major characters—but it has been nice not to scowl at someone for hours on end."

The rice began to boil. Kyoko opened her mouth, but Ren was already turning it down and covering the pan.

"Is that acceptable, sensei?" he asked, teasing her.

Color flooded her face, but she nodded, smiling. She'd been better able to accept his teasing and more and more. He hoped it was symptoms of her gradually growing out of her self-imposed role of perpetual kohai.

He would miss her. The sudden thought jolted him out of the underlying hum of pleasure that came from being with her like this, as if they were a real couple at home preparing dinner. For the first time, he paused to consider what would happen—truly happen—if his hopes came to pass. If the director liked his audition, he would be asked for a call back. If his call back audition was successful, filming would start in the United States almost immediately. He would probably have a few weeks to get his affairs in order—luckily his role in Fragile World was scheduled to end within that time period—and that would be it. He would leave the land that had nurtured his talent for the past seven years. He would leave this apartment… he would leave her.

He wasn't foolish enough to think about asking her to come with him. She wouldn't understand why he was asking, and she—rightly—wouldn't want to leave her own blossoming career behind. He had no right to ask her to come with him; the fact that it had even passed through his mind showed how desperate the situation was to him. Could he do it? Could he sever this surprisingly fragile thing that existed between them? And it would be a severing… even in this modern age of cellphones and webcams, relationships were not sustained on talking alone.

At Kyoko's loud throat clearing, he woke from his gloomy thoughts and turned off the gas heat under the water that was now boiling. The rice still had to sit a further 15 minutes, soaking in the water.

He could say no to the offer, if it came, he realized. But that would be a bad move for his career. There was no guarantee that he would get another offer like this any time soon. The only reason he'd fallen under Flagship's eye was because of Tragic Marker. Obviously, they had other possible candidates for this role of theirs and if he dropped out, they wouldn't care. He'd be back in the position he was before their offer came in: the number one actor of Japan. Not a bad place to be, but having got a glimpse of his goal… he wasn't sure if he could relinquish it, not even for the woman he loved.

Did that make him a horrible person?

"Tsuruga-san? Is something wrong?"

He looked up to see Kyoko arranging thinly sliced strips of egg in a small bowl, her eyes fixed on his.

"I… received an offer in the mail today," he admitted. "It's for the role of a lifetime. But… it would require…" the President's words echoed in his mind, "certain sacrifices." He paused, not wanting to admit to the whole story while things were so uncertain, but needing to unburden himself a little. "It would mean a drastic change to my life."

Kyoko looked thoughtful as she turned to get sugar, salt, and rice vinegar from the pantry. The rice was almost done. She hesitated and then, with a smile, gave him the ingredients.

"If it's for the role of a lifetime, I'm not surprised that it requires sacrifices," she said, watching with a keen eye as he measured the rice vinegar into the saucepan. "Actors sacrifice much to pursue their art. You told me once that actors may even have to ignore the death of a parent if it conflicts with their work."

"Yes," he said, shaking out the sugar, watching it disappear into the vinegar with a hissing sound. "But fortunately, I've never had to test that premise. Now that it comes to an actuality, I find myself… conflicted."

Kyoko nodded approvingly as he mixed the contents of the salt pan, only reaching over once to lower the flame of the gas a bit.

"I think," she said, folding her arms over her apron, "that sensei's advice is useful here too: You're not a newbie actor, but what would this role mean for your career?"

Ren glanced at her. "A huge step forward… bigger than B.J., even."

"I think you should take it," she said simply. "Some sacrifices…" She lifted her eyes to meet his. "Well, it wouldn't be a sacrifice if it was easy, would it?"

"No," he agreed, drinking in the sight of her, the way her hair fell across her forehead, the cute way she pursed her lips when she was thinking, her elegant posture, even when she was doing something as casual as standing in a kitchen. He glanced at the rice, drained off the water and began scooping it into a large, flat pan. Kyoko began to spoon the rice vinegar mixture over it, but he stopped her with a touch.

"Let me finish what I started."

She nodded, relinquishing the spoon, but soon she was fidgeting as he inexpertly began to stir the rice-vinegar mixture into the rice. It wasn't working very well. The rice, thick and glutinous, reacted to the flings of his spoon by scattering sticky grains all over the countertop.

"Am I doing it wrong? he asked brightly.

"Yes, let me show you how," she said, relieved, coming to stand next to him. He stayed where he was, his expression open and his smile innocent.

"Well?" he said. "Are you going to show me?"

She hesitated, looking at his hand that was still holding the spoon.

"I always learn better with hands on-experience, " he said casually. "I still remember how to play Katsuki's piano piece from Dark Moon… and that I learned by memorizing the instructor's hand movements." As if to hurry her decision, a glob of rice fell off of the spoon and plopped onto the countertop.

Kyoko sighed and, completely ignorant of the feeling she was eliciting in the man beside her, gingerly covered his hand with hers. She had to stand very close to do this, since they were both right-handed, her side practically pressed against him. With a slight tremble in her voice, she explained the proper technique of folding the rice vinegar liquid into the sticky rice.

Ren listened and allowed her to lead his hand, making no other effort to get closer or touch her more than he already was. Perhaps it was a cheap and manipulative trick just to have an excuse to touch her. But… if the producers of the movie wanted him, than this… he inhaled, drinking in her sweet fragrance, would have to sustain him for a long time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_About a month later_.

"Well," Yashiro said, his smile stiff. "Hizuri Kuon. That's… going to take some getting used to."

Ren glanced at the President and gripped the armrests of his chair. It was hard not to try to justify himself again, to try to explain, to even admit that he still thought of himself as Ren, not… _that_ name. But he could see that his manager was hurt, and all the excuses in the world wouldn't ease the sense of betrayal Yashiro felt. It was best to stick with the President's explanation. It had the advantage of being from a semi-objective third party whose opinion Yashiro respected.

This whole thing had started about an hour before with the arrival of the mail. Yashiro had taken one look at the envelope from Flagship and had silently passed it over to Ren. Carefully, with fingers that betrayed the slightest tremble, he slit it open and read the contents.

"Well?" Yashiro stood in front of him, almost bouncing in anticipation. "What does it say?"

Ren looked up, smiling. "I got it."

Yashiro let out an undignified whoop of delight then cleared his throat, straightening his tie. "Congratulations, Ren! I need to find some champagne…"

"Yashiro-san…" For a moment, he hesitated. Fierce joy at his success warred with gut-clenching anxiety. It was time. Yashiro had to be let in on his secret… but it wouldn't be easy.

"Eh?"

"I... need to tell you something."

And then Ren had called the President who'd invited them to his private rooms where he'd laid out the basic facts of Ren's story: he was the son of Hizuri Kuu who, as a child and teenager, had a lot of trouble acting in the United States due to his famous father. Then at fifteen he'd moved to Japan, assumed a new identity, and began his new career as Tsuruga Ren.

"It's a lot to take in all at once," Lory said kindly, standing to go to the sidebar where a crystal decanter waited next to several glasses. "Would you like a drink, Yashiro-kun?"

"Whiskey, neat," Yashiro replied immediately, not looking at Ren.

Lory poured and handed the glass to Yashiro before sitting back down on the couch next to Ren. The bespectacled manager took a sip, shuddered, and set the glass back down.

"So… President... Hizuri-san—"

Ren winced at the formality in his manager's voice. The use of the honorific was intentional. Yashiro hadn't used an honorific with his family name since the first year that Yashiro was assigned to him, and even then it had been a friendly _kun_ because of his youth.

"Why exactly," continued Yashiro in glacial tones, "am I being informed about this now? I assume this has something to do with the offer Re—Hizuri-san recieved from Flagship?"

"Yes," Ren said. "I didn't want to tell you… about me until after the director's choice was made. There's going to be a press conference… announcing my move to the United States and my real name." He cleared his throat. "As my manager, you'll be integral to the planning of the event and the back and forth with the American agent at Flagship."

Yashiro's eyes widened. "You… want me to go to the United States with you?"

Ren nodded. "Yashiro… you've been my manager since I was seventeen. I can't imagine going to the next phase of my career without you. If... if you still want the job, that is."

"Of course I do!" he replied, his formerly stern expression softening into a smile.

"There's one further thing you need to know," the President said, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"More revelations?" Yashiro looked wary, and picked up his whiskey for another fortifying sip.

Lory gestured at Ren who reached up and tugged on the dark wig that was currently covering his hair.

The glass of whisky dropped from Yashiro's fingers.

#

Ren flipped a page of his script, not raising his eyes. "You're staring again," he said mildly.

Across the room, the chair squeaked as Yashiro jumped. "N-not intentionally…" he admitted, resettling his glasses back on his nose. "I'm just trying to imagine how I've not picked up on anything this whole time."

Ren glanced up. "Normally I kept my hair dyed. It's not like I was relying on a wig all these years."

"But I've never seen you put in contacts… I don't remember you having an accent…"

Ren laughed. "I grew up with a fluent Japanese speaker, Yashiro-san. Besides, the President had me tutored for a bit when I first arrived, to make sure that I acted fully Japanese, not only looking the part."

Yashiro snapped his fingers as if in sudden realization. "That day when we met Hizuri Kuu and Kyoko-chan acting as his son…" He smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. "Everything is starting to make a whole lot of sense now."

Ren chuckled. "Yes, that was the first time I'd seen my father in person in six years, let alone heard my real name spoken aloud. It shocked me pretty bad..." He glanced at Yashiro. "What's that expression for?"

Yashiro shook his head. "Sorry, Re—I mean, Hizuri—I mean, Kuo—"

"You can keep calling me Ren for now," Ren interrupted. "I won't go by that name until after the press conference."

"Okay, Ren, what I was going to say was… well, I have to admit that I feel sorry for you. Fifteen years old is a really young age to leave your parents behind and have no contact at all for the next six years."

Ren rested his chin in his hand. "Yes… looking back, I regret the silence, but at the time I thought it was necessary and so did the President, for my mental and emotional health. My parents didn't know how to help me… I felt smothered by their attempts, and I was only getting worse." He looked up at Yashiro. "It seems harsh from an outside perspective, but I did get better. Being away from… from everything that was poisoning me gave me some new clarity. I was able to focus more, to see what mistakes I had made. I healed." He didn't add that some of that healing had only come last year, with Kyoko's unknowing help.

"Are you…" Yashiro hesitated. "Are you going to let them know about your return?"

"I plan to," he said, thoughtfully. "But I don't want them letting the cat out of the bag before the press conference. I'll have the President call them the day before or something."

"When are you going to tell Kyoko-chan?"

Ren flipped a page in his script. "In a couple of days. She's busy right now with her new drama. Our schedules don't match up this week."

"Ren… you really shouldn't put this off…"

"And I really need to memorize this," Ren said in a cool voice, focusing on his script. "I do have a scene to perform in a couple of hours."

"Of course…" Yashiro said in a hesitant voice. "I'll let you get to it then."

The President called him back later that day when he had a free moment to tell Maria in person. The little girl stood stunned into silence for a good full five minutes. Then she hesitantly tugged on his blond hair, perhaps hoping that it too would be a wig. It didn't come loose and she took a step back away from where he was crouched at her level, uncertainty crossing her face.

"You're… American?" she said finally, her voice small.

"Afraid so," he said with a gentle smile. "I was born there, but Japan has become my second home." He paused. "I hope Maria-chan isn't very angry with me?"

She shook her head, blushing fiercely. "I just… I feel so stupidly shy all of a sudden," she said, covering her face with her hands and peeping out at him through her fingers.

Ren smothered a laugh and coaxed her into his arms. "See? Same hug. I'm still me."

She nodded against his shoulder.

"Maria-chan, we're keeping this a secret until the press conference," the President said as Maria finally let go of Ren. "Only you, Ten-san, and Yashiro-kun know so far."

Maria frowned and turned to look up at Ren. "What about oneechan? You've told her, right?"

Ren hesitated. It was one thing to dismiss Yashiro's nagging and another to be faced with this child and her trusting eyes.

"No, not yet," he said, feeling a twinge of shame. "I only found out today that I got the role. I didn't want to say anything before I was sure. But don't worry, I will tell her."

Maria nodded, apparently satisfied, and began chatting as if nothing had happened. Ren smiled as he stood. Children were fairly resilient to these kinds of things. He hoped Kyoko would be as half as understanding as Maria when he got the chance to speak with her.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Thank you all for your reviews! They really make my day!

This chapter started out enormous—nearly 4,000 words—so I trimmed it down a bit and split it into 2. I didn't intend to drag it out this much, but turns out Ren did have a lot to do...

* * *

**Chapter** **5**

The days after letting Yashiro in on his secret proved to be a blur of busyness for the actor and his manager. Yashiro worked with the President on the language of the press release and also the answers to probable questions that the press might ask. But Yashiro had also taken upon himself the task of getting Ren—he still had trouble of thinking of him as anything else—ready for the move to the United States. There were multiple calls with an agent from Flagship who went to several apartment buildings, took pictures, and sent the information back to Yashiro, who then reported it to Ren. The various producers, casting directors, and other crew from the movie needed logistics of when Ren would be in the States and able to film. Costuming needed to know his measurements; catering needed to know if he had any food allergies or special dietary requirements; and of course, immigration was only interested in making sure he was going to enter the country legally, which, as an American by birth wouldn't be any trouble for him, but Yashiro had to get a work visa, which was going to take a bothersome amount of time to get processed. Luckily, the President was friends with an employee of the American embassy in Tokyo who had offered to ease the process along.

Ren, meanwhile, was alarmed by how much he had accumulated in his years of living in Japan. His apartment was huge and seemed to have much he had hidden away and forgotten about. In the end, he decided against packing. If the movie was a flop, he might have to return to Tokyo, and if that happened he would need a place to live. In the meantime, he would pack what he needed or wanted and simply purchase the rest when he arrived Stateside. The only thing he really needed was what he had arrived with: his passport.

He lifted the little blue book out of its hiding place in his safe, opening it up to see the picture of that guy staring up at him with sullen green eyes. The passport hadn't seen the light of day since Guam, which was the last time he'd been without hair dye or contacts in public. Even now, alone in his apartment, he wore the Ren wig and the brown contacts, just in case…

He shook his head and put the passport back in the safe. Just in case, what? Kyoko had let him know that she had a series of night shoots coming up and wouldn't be able to make dinner for him. The side of him that wanted to put off the inevitable was relieved, but the other half was worried. The best chance to tell her would have been here, privately. He rubbed his hand over his face. What was he doing? He needed to stop being a coward and just get it over with. Gritting his teeth, his stalked over to his table where he'd left his phone.

Without letting himself think about what her reaction would be, he selected her name from his contact list. The phone rang a couple of times, and he found himself half wishing that she wouldn't pick up, that he could delay this conversation again.

"_Moshi, moshi_?" came a cheerful, if slightly breathless voice on the other end.

"M-Mogami-san," he said, startled by the way his heart leapt into his throat. "I-I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Not at all," she assured him. "I'm on break."

"Are you on set tonight?"

"No, at Darumaya." She paused, her voice sounding hesitant when she spoke again. "Is... there something you need, Tsuruga-san?"

His mouth went dry and he ran his suddenly damp palms down the side of his shirt. "I… I wanted to… talk to you about... I should be doing this in person though…" He abruptly turned to his kitchen, getting a glass of water from the fridge dispenser to ease his dry throat. Good grief, he was acting like a rookie with stage fright. _Get it together, you sad excuse for an actor._

"There's something I need to tell you—" he began in a steadier voice, but was interrupted by shout and the sound of breaking glass from Kyoko's end. "Mogami-san? Is everything alright?"

He heard a hurried, muffled conversation, and then Kyoko's voice came back on the phone.

"I'm sorry, Tsuruga-san! I have to go. One of the waitresses spilled a tray everywhere, so I need to go help. There's only the two of us tonight."

"Ah," he said, closing his eyes. "Okay. I'm sorry I bothered you on a work night. I'll talk to you later?"

"Yes, that'd be fine," she said, sounding distracted. "Goodbye!"

Ren looked at his phone for a moment; then set it back down to cradle his head in his hands as relief flowed through him.

#

Work kept Ren busier than he had been in awhile over the next few days. He still had a few jobs to complete—Fragile World among them—and there were Armandy modeling gigs, photo shoots, and Tragic Marker interviews. And when schedule inquiries came in for the time he would be in the United States, he and Yashiro had to come up with vague excuses for all of them. When he could, he also took extra work, trying to complete as many jobs as possible before he left. He wanted to leave with his professional contacts pleased and not angry at subpar work just because he was leaving for greener pastures. Tsuruga Ren was, above all, a professional, and he would do every job with the care and focus he put into all of them.

Then, of course, was the inevitable call to his parents he had to squeeze into his suddenly frantic schedule. The President had called Kuu and Juli ahead of time, letting them know that Ren needed to talk with them.

Ren entered the President's private rooms, looking around curiously, spotting the older man standing by the window, cellphone to his ear.

"Ah, here he is now," said Lory. He gestured Ren over. "No, Kuu, I'm not going to tell you anything more… Hmm? Oh, Juli are you there too now? Yes… yes… No, he's in very good health, I promise. Here, let me give him the phone so you can speak to him yourself, and you'll have answers to all your questions."

The President handed him the phone and clapped him on the shoulder, retreating to his desk to flip through some paperwork. Far enough away to give the semblance of privacy, but close enough to be near if he was needed.

Ren brought the phone to his ear, his gut clenching nervously.

"Ren?" His father's voice, sounding breathless and worried. "What's going on? Why did you need to speak with us so quickly?"

"I'm here too, Kuon!" his mother's voice said. "We've got you on speaker in the den."

"Juli! You know you're not supposed to use that name—"

"No, I will not call him 'Ren!'" she snapped, her voice sounding a little bit distant as if she'd leaned away from the speaker to glare at her husband. "I did not give birth to Ren Tsuruga, and I will not use that name the first time I speak with him in six years."

"Mom," Ren said, his voice unexpectedly husky. The voices on the other end went silent. He cleared his throat. "Mom, Dad... I'm coming home."

A deafening shriek made him hold the phone away from his ear, and he had to laugh if only to hide the lump in his throat as a barrage of questions came pouring over the phone.

"Yes, it's for a role… no, I can't tell you about it yet… there's a non-disclosure agreement with this kind of stuff, Mom, you know that… Yes, that means you can't tell anyone yet. Yes, I'm fine… Meals? Well, I do eat at least twice a day, my manager sees to that."

Ren sat down in a chair near the window, closing his eyes, letting his parents chatter on, just reveling in the sheer joy of hearing their voices. He hadn't allowed himself to miss them for so many years. The closest he'd gotten was when Kuu had shown up for his movie promotion during Dark Moon's filming, but even then it had been solely an internal thing—Ren had to hide so much from Yashiro, from Kuu, and Kyoko. And maybe to an extent, from even himself. Tsuruga Ren the Japanese actor wouldn't be so undignified as to feel the effects of homesickness. At least, that's what he told himself then. It was a new experience to now allow himself to feel longing for his family again… to let Ren slip away and just be… Kuon.

A repeated question on the line made him open his eyes.

"Hmm? No, sorry, I was listening… I'm not sure when the flight is. I'll have my manager send you the details."

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. Ren looked up to see Yashiro at his side, pointing at his watch. It was close to seven o'clock. He had an evening talk show to prep for. He nodded.

"Mom, Dad, I'm sorry to cut this short, but I have to get back to work."

#

Juliena Hizuri leaned over the phone, tears dripping from her chin to land on the desk. "You'll spend at least a week at home with us when you get here, right?"

"I don't know what the shooting schedule will be like yet, but yes, I will," said their son. "I… I love you both. Goodbye."

Kuu rubbed his wife's back as she turned to bury her face in his shoulder and cried for a few minutes. When she was done—red-eyed, but calm—they went back to their breakfast which had been interrupted by Lory's call. Kuu refreshed their cold cups of coffee for hot ones and returned to his third stack of pancakes. These were Juli's creation, so they were a bit thick and lumpy with the extra things she liked to stuff into the batter, but he dug into them with the gusto that only a man with a black hole for a stomach can muster.

After eating most of his way through the stack, however, he had to stop. His wife, used to seeing his food disappear without a pause, looked up. "What's wrong? You didn't chip a tooth again, did you?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I was just thinking… I hope he's told Kyoko. Something like this is bound to shock her."

"You said that he likes her, right?" Juli said, sipping her coffee. "He'll tell her when he has a chance." Her eyes brightened. "Maybe he'll bring her for a visit!"

Kuu frowned again, resuming his meal. He didn't want to say it out loud, not when Juli was still feeling extra maternal after their chat with Kuon, but their son had a bad habit of avoiding his problems.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **It has to get worse before it can get better...

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Ren continued to dodge Yashiro's question of when he would like the press release to occur. It was nearly a full week after he'd let Yashiro in on his secret when his escape attempts finally caught up with him.

The President walked into his dressing room when he was preparing for a shoot for Fragile World. As Prince Harashima, Ren was encased in a _sokutai_, a highly formal dress robe for the imperial family. It was difficult to move without dislodging his wig and the accompanying headgear, so he'd opted to sit in his dressing room until the crew were ready for him.

In the mirror, Ren saw the door open and one of Lory's flashy costumes preceded the man through the door. He looked around the room, spotted Ren sitting quietly in a chair near the back and walked forward, the spurs of his American cowboy boots jangling with each step.

"Ren, you can't keep putting this off," said the President without preamble.

Yashiro gaped at him, perhaps surprised that the older man would be so blunt, though Ren wasn't surprised at all. He said nothing, looking at the President with a steady, blank expression. It was good practice for his first scene.

"I'm here as a courtesy," Lory continued, glancing at Yashiro this time. "The press event will happen tomorrow at eleven o'clock, whether Kuon decides to show up or not, though I advise him to do so."

"B-but, sir…" Yashiro stammered. "It's just been a hassle trying to find a free moment… I'm sure if I can tweak things around in his schedule… maybe one more week..."

Lory looked at him with sympathy, then threw a glare in Ren's direction. "There is plenty of time, Yashiro-kun, but a certain someone in this room is acting like a coward. The only reason for the delay is because he lacks the courage to tell _her_ his secrets."

Yashiro's mouth dropped open and he shrank away from Ren slightly, as if prepared to feel the full force of his wrath.

"It's happening tomorrow, Ren," Lory said in a not-unkind voice. "You need to tell her tonight, or she'll find out when the rest of the world does. Is that how you want it to happen?"

Ren dropped his gaze to his hands that were resting on the midnight blue silk of his costume. No, that's not how he wanted it to happen. But there was another story at stake here than just the revelation of Ren as an American living under an assumed name and appearance. The President didn't know about Corn and Kyoko-chan from eleven years ago… didn't know about their reunion at Guam. The President thought he was merely being shy perhaps, or didn't want to tell Kyoko that he was leaving. But Kyoko didn't know about how he felt about her, so why would she care that he was leaving? At least, care any more than a friend would. No, that wasn't what he had been avoiding for the past two weeks. The truth was that he didn't want to reveal his long-standing deception and risk losing Kyoko's trust for good.

He should have told her at Guam, the minute she saw him in the ocean. Should have spoke up before she said "Corn" and revealed all. But… he hadn't. He'd put it off yet again. And it had been wonderful to be her fairy prince for a couple of hours, to speak with her as an old friend… Now, because of him, he wouldn't even have that any more.

"I understand," he said calmly, raising his eyes to meet the President's. "You're right. I am a coward."

"Uh… Tsuruga-san," said a hesitant voice from the doorway. A crewman with a clipboard stood there. "We're ready for you."

Ren stood, feeling the costume settle around him. "I'm coming."

#

She wasn't answering her cell phone. Ren felt a sick feeling clench his stomach. He knew Kyoko had been busy and had a late night shoot, but he would have thought that she would return his call once she'd seen it was from him. Especially since he'd told her the first time that he needed to tell her something.

He let the hand holding the cell phone drop. It was late; after midnight. He needed to go to sleep so he could be focused at the press reveal tomorrow. Perhaps he'd be able to reach her in the morning.

But she didn't pick up her phone in the morning either. He made a split second decision after hearing her voice mail come on the phone for the fifth time. He'd tell her in person; he'd pick her up at the little restaurant she called home, and he'd be able to tell her in the car. It wouldn't be ideal, but at least the car would be private, and she wouldn't be able to run away from him while the car was moving…

"I'm sorry, Tsuruga-san," said the plump, middle-aged woman who answered the door at the Darumaya. "Kyoko-chan left early today—"

"Who is it?" asked the taisho, coming up behind the okamisan. His eyes narrowed as he saw Ren. "Oh."

"This is Tsuruga-san, dear. We met him at Kyoko-chan's grateful party," said his wife with a smile.

"I remember," the taisho said grumpily. "Kyoko-chan is already at work. She had an early shoot."

"Ah, okay…" Ren paused, clenching the hands he had in his pockets into fists. "If she should happen to return before eleven, please tell her to call me. It's urgent."

The taisho's frown deepened.

"Of… of course," the okamisan said, trying to mask her surprise with politeness. As Ren's silver Audi drove away she turned back to her husband. "He seems like a nice man; not at all like you expect from big name celebrities."

"Hmph," said her husband.

#

Ren sat in his parked car in the parking garage at L.M.E. for a few minutes, staring at his phone. Once he left his car, he had to go to meet Ten to get ready for the press conference. There was no other time left. This wasn't how he wanted to tell her… this wasn't how he should have told her… but even this way was better than the alternative.

He scrolled down to her name on his list of contacts and pressed the button.

"_This is Kyoko!_" said her cheerful voice. "_I'm not available right now. Please leave a message and I will call you back as soon as I can! Arigatou!"_

Ren leaned over, pressing his forehead to the wheel. "Mogami-san," he said, squeezing his eyes shut. "I'm sorry I put this off for so long, but I need to tell you something…"

#

Kyoko was having a good day. The shoot had gone wonderfully the night before. She hadn't any retakes, and her costars invited her out for a late dinner afterwards. It was nice to be genuinely friendly with her fellow actresses. Then, even though she'd been tired, the night had been so beautiful that she'd stayed outside at home to admire the clear silver moon.

The morning had been warm, as was usual in a Tokyo summer, but not very humid yet, enabling Kyoko to breeze through her chores at Darumaya. And now she was in her dressing room, having just finished a shoot as Jun. It hadn't been a long scene for her; but it had still required costume and makeup. Carefully, she eased off Jun's short, punk rock style wig, scratching her fingers happily through her real hair. Since the makeup artist wasn't in yet, she decided to check her phone. The battery was almost dead, the icon flashing an angry red. She'd been so tired the night before that she'd neglected to plug it in.

But the message flashing up on the screen distracted her from the plight of the battery. Tsuruga-san had called her six times and had left a voicemail about an hour ago. Her heart fluttered at the sight, until she thumped a fist on her chest in an attempt to beat the treacherous organ into submission. She selected the message and clicked on it, lifting the phone to her ear.

"_Mogami-san_," the message began.

Why did his voice sound so defeated?

"_I'm sorry I put this off for so long, but I need to tell you something. You already know that I've been living under my stage name Tsuruga Ren, and you've been polite enough never to ask what my real name is… but it's going to be revealed today and I needed to tell you the truth before the press confer—_"

The phone went dead.

"No!" Kyoko pressed the power button frantically, but it didn't respond. Kyoko cursed the thing and looked around the room in search of her purse and the spare charge cord she kept inside it.

As she stood from her chair, the TV in the corner of the room caught her eye. It was turned to the local entertainment news channel. Kyoko blinked in surprise when Lory Takarada appeared on screen in front of a podium, though the volume was down too low for her to hear more than a few snatches of words.

"... Tsuruga…."

Kyoko froze, then hurried over to the TV and turned up the volume.

"... has decided at last to reveal to the public the identity he's been keeping private for the last six years: not from any sense of disloyalty to his family, but from a desire that we all possess, to rise above our predecessors, to make our own way in the world. Tsuruga Ren, as you know him, will be no more. He is announcing today that he is moving to the United States to pursue his dream of becoming a Hollywood actor under his real name, Hizuri Kuon." The President on the screen turned, lifting an arm to welcome a man onto the stage with him. Tsuruga Ren arrived to the podium accompanied by camera flashes.

"Thank you very much for supporting me through these years," he said in that voice she knew so well. "Tsuruga Ren's identity has served me well, but like a child who must stop crawling to learn to walk on two legs, I am leaving Tsuruga Ren behind." He smiled. "I don't think I want to give the name a funeral quite yet as my father did for Hozu Shouhei, but I won't be using it any longer. Therefore, I am shedding the name and the physical identity that belonged to Tsuruga Ren." He put his hand in his pocket and brought out something: a contact case. Kyoko heard the press buzzing with curiosity and then the camera flashes started again as Tsuruga-san bent and removed something from his eyes… When he leaned back up to look at the camera, Kyoko's breath caught in her throat. Those eyes…

Then, he reached up and tugged at his brown hair. It pulled free—_a wig?_ Kyoko thought numbly—and a storm of camera flashes lit up the stage for the man with gleaming blond hair and green eyes... a man she knew.

Cameras flashed nonstop on the screen. The green-eyed man who was a stranger and yet so familiar was staring straight into the camera. "To my friends and colleagues at L.M.E., I apologize for any distress this revelation might cause, though—" he said again with that dazzling smile, "there are plenty of you who I know also go by stage names, so maybe I won't apologize to you."

Laughter erupted from the press, though they still held up their recording devices and frantically scribbled notes.

"The President has already revealed that I will be moving to the United States," he continued calmly, unaware of the tiny shattered pieces of Kyoko's heart that lay broken and bleeding around her. "This is to pursue a project that I cannot reveal as of today. I am very excited about the prospect of returning to the country of my birth, but I will never forget that Japan was the first country that accepted me on my own merits as an actor. I am proud to be part Japanese, and I know that I will return someday."

The makeup artist stepped into the room. "Oh, there you are, Kyoko-san! Sorry I'm late, I was watching the press conference… Kyoko-san? What's wrong? Are you okay? Oh! Hey, where are you going? Your makeup is still on! Come back!"

On the TV, the golden-haired man turned his gaze once more to the camera. "There is one person I wanted to tell personally before the press conference, but I... didn't. To them I can only say… I'm sorry."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **A super long last chapter, but I was getting tired of all the angst. :)

Thank you again for all the reviews, follows, and favorites!

* * *

**Chapter 7**

The two weeks after the press conference were among the worst that Kuon had experienced in Japan. Kyoko was ignoring him. She didn't return his calls and flat out refused to see him when he came in person onto her set.

He didn't know what to do, but even so he barely had time to formulate a plan to win back her trust because he was moving to the United States in a few days. Could he really leave the country without talking to her at least once?

"Just give her a little more time," Yashiro said hesitantly, when Kuon closed his phone from attempting to reach her again, unable to keep the dejected expression from his face.

"It's been two weeks," he said quietly. "She… she probably is plotting her revenge on me like she did with Fuwa."

"Oh, it can't be that bad," Yashiro said, trying to smile. "After all, you're not nearly as irritating as Fuwa Sho."

It was no consolation, especially since every single time Kuon had ever been condescending, or angry, or doubtful seemed to rise up in his mind, accusing him with their awful truth. Besides, he knew her… Had he shattered her innocence? Her treasured memories of Corn? That was the last thing he wanted to do… but now his cowardice had made things worse: he'd lost her trust.

She, of course, didn't come over to make dinner any more. He found himself checking the door every time he heard a slight noise outside his apartment, hoping that she would be standing there, ready to talk, to at least hear his attempt at an apology.

But she never was.

And it was all his fault.

Kuon stared at his closed phone for a moment then stuffed it in his pocket and stood. "Yashiro-san, cancel everything I have up to the flight."

"Everything?"

He nodded. "I have to do something that's more important than my career right now."

Yashiro smiled and nodded, opening his schedule book. "Leave it to me… Kuon."

#

"I'm sorry," the okamisan said as she arrived back at the main floor of the restaurant, looking a little embarrassed. "Kyoko-chan doesn't… want to come down."

Kuon nodded. "It's okay. I didn't think she would." He resumed his seat at the bar. "Can I have a menu? I have a feeling I'm going to be here awhile."

The okami blinked in surprise and then smiled. "Of course! Would you rather move to a booth or table?"

"No, this is fine. _Arigatou_."

Across from the bar, the taisho frowned. But then he hadn't stopped frowning since Kuon had arrived. He had the feeling the quiet older man didn't like him much. However, that was the least of his worries right now.

Throughout the evening, he kept one eye on the back staircase, but Kyoko never left the upstairs apartment. He stayed at his seat, ordering as much as he thought he could eat without making himself sick and lingering over a drink, but still she didn't come down.

Finally, it was 10 o'clock, closing time. Kuon paid his bill, adding a generous tip for the bother of his keeping a seat all day. He even helped put the chairs up on the tables. It was his fault, after all, that Kyoko wasn't downstairs helping as usual. The okamisan protested but her husband merely watched with a glower that seemed less disapproving than usual.

But when that was done he had no more excuses. Kuon left the restaurant and stood outside the front, looking up to see the faint light of the windows upstairs. He knew it was her window because the okami and taisho wouldn't have had time to arrive in their room yet. He watched the square of light for a moment then sighed, glad that the night was warm. It was going to be a long wait.

About an hour later, the door to the restaurant opened again, revealing the couple that ran the restaurant.

"Are you going to stand out here all night?" she asked.

"That was my plan," he admitted. "I need to speak with her; to apologize in person."

"Let's leave him to it," said the taisho unexpectedly.

"Dear?" The okami looked up at her husband, startled. "Just leave him here all night?"

The taisho glanced at Kuon's face and nodded. "Some things are worth waiting for."

#

Once or twice that night Kuon thought he saw the curtains of her window twitch, but he couldn't be sure. He hadn't slept well since the press conference, so this added forced wakefulness made him so tired he thought he might be hallucinating. When he felt himself beginning to fall asleep, he started to pace up and down the sidewalk, reciting memorized lines from scripts to keep himself concentrating on something. This had the bonus effect of keeping late night passersby away from him, assuming he was some rambling lunatic. Which he supposed he was, to an extent.

At one point, perhaps around three o'clock in the morning, he was pacing again to wake himself up, but in his exhaustion he tripped, falling to his hands and banging his knee on the hard concrete.

"Ow." Kuon sat back on the sidewalk, observing with the hysterical amusement of the very tired that Yashiro would not be pleased that he'd ruined his Armandy trousers. The right knee was torn clear through and blood was beginning to ooze out of the scrapes on his knee. He could feel laughter start to form in his chest, waiting to be released to the dark summer night.

Suddenly, his hallucinations became reality for he was still sitting on the ground when a pair of small but strong hands pulled at his arm.

"M-Mogami-san!"

Kyoko was wrapped in a yukata, her feet in a pair of flipflops. She didn't look at him, or say a word, but steered him inside the restaurant and took a chair down from one of the tables and ordered him there. He sat down, his knee throbbing, the bubble of insane laughter from the fall dying away as she hurried into a back room.

Kyoko soon reappeared with a first-aid kit and knelt down on the floor next to his torn knee.

"Stay still," she ordered. "There's some gravel in there."

"Mogami-san—"

"I'm going to treat you and then you're going home," she said in a stiff voice, still not looking at him.

Kuon lapsed into silence, wincing as she used a set of tweezers to pull bits of concrete and dirt from his torn flesh.

"I… never told you that it was you who helped me love acting again."

Her head jerked up and she met his eyes for a brief second before they quickly lowered to their task again.

Kuon continued. "Ten years old, and I was already jaded to the business. I didn't have anything left in me to try again… I was nearly ready to give up. But then I met you… and you helped me find that love again. You helped me remember how much I loved acting. Your belief in Corn… I'd forgotten how wonderful acting could make me feel."

Kyoko wiped a trickle of blood that was traveling his knee. She didn't look up at him, but she also didn't tell him to stop, which he decided to take as a good sign.

"That… belief you had in Corn; how much he meant to you… I didn't want to break that. That's why I didn't tell you," he said, then added. "Part of the reason, anyway. The other half… well, I'd made a promise to myself a long time ago to not be Kuon because Kuon was dangerous. Kuon was a failure. Kuon…" He clenched his fists against his thighs. "Kuon is a coward." He hissed in sudden pain as Kyoko pressed an alcohol-soaked gauze pad against his torn knee.

"I've been a runner all my life," he said after the first blaze of pain passed. "I didn't know how to deal with some of the adult-sized problems I was given as a child, so I ran from them," he said. "When I first met you I had run away from my father who was trying to console me about getting fired from yet another project. When I was fifteen I ran to Japan and I thought I was going to be able to stop running once I put down roots as Tsuruga Ren. But it's only been these past couple of weeks that I realized I haven't stopped running at all."

She didn't say anything.

"I don't want to run anymore, Mogami-san. It's not fair to you, though I'm afraid I realized it too late."

She busied herself by screwing the cap back on the alcohol bottle.

"Mogami-san…"

"Just go home," she said in a tired voice. "Don't you have work to do?"

"This is more important to me than work," he said in a quiet voice. Startled amber eyes peeped up at him and then looked back down to rummage in the first aid kit, eventually coming up with a large adhesive bandage.

"My flight leaves at four o'clock tomorrow morning," he said as she peeled away the paper wrappings. "I didn't want to leave before clearing the air."

She pressed the bandage to his knee. He took a chance and touched the back of her hand. "Mogami-san..."

"Kyoko-chan?"

Kyoko jerked to her feet, face red as if she'd been caught at something indecent. The okami of the restaurant stood at the back where a door led to the upstairs apartments, yawning. She came into the room, her eyes falling on Kuon.

"Hizuri-san," she said in a kind yet firm voice. "I think you need to leave. It's very late… or very early, rather."

"Yes. I'm sorry for waking you up." He glanced at Kyoko, but she hadn't turned around. "Goodbye."

#

"I'll be glad once they start boarding," Yashiro sighed, slumping in his seat. The Tokyo airport around them was quieter than normal. To decrease the chances of Kuon being recognized, and so that they'd land at LAX at a reasonable time, they'd chosen a very early morning flight. Only a handful of passengers were scattered around the waiting area, most of them asleep or blearily contemplating the lit screen of an electronic device. Of course, most people weren't used to his blond hair and green eyes yet, so maybe he wouldn't be recognized anyway. Even after two weeks of living under his true appearance, Kuon still felt strange to be in public without dark hair and eyes. He felt stripped raw, like a peeled banana.

"Hoping to catch some more sleep?" Kuon asked, his eyes on a magazine. It was an entertainment magazine which happened to have a cast photo of Kyoko's new drama. There she was in the front, her eyes dark and angry, her short black wig flipped over one eye.

He hadn't slept well the night before after coming back from the the Darumaya. It was only a handful of hours since he'd seen her last, but he missed her so much already he almost felt ill. It was silly, he told himself over and over. Kyoko hadn't felt the same about him as he did about her and probably would have spurned him if he had ever told her, but telling himself this didn't seem to help. He missed her, he loved her, and being in another country would only make it worse. Especially with things as they were. Perhaps… perhaps that was why she didn't speak to him last night. She was already cutting the slender ties that bound them.

It was no more than he deserved.

"No, I shouldn't sleep when there's so much work waiting for me once we land," Yashiro replied, sighing as he closed his laptop. "I think we should…"

When his manager didn't finish the thought, Kuon looked up, but found the other man staring at something to the side. Kuon followed his gaze.

Kyoko stood at the edge of the boarding area in a simple summer dress, her hands clasped in front of her.

Kuon was out of his chair before he knew what he was doing.

"Kyoko-chan," he said before he could stop himself, coming to a halt in front of her, barely restraining himself from pulling her into his arms. His heart was beating loudly in his chest, he was surprised that she couldn't hear it.

She flushed crimson, bending into one of her perfect bows. "Tsu—I mean… Hizuri… san." She trailed off, looking uncertain.

Afraid that she would run away like a frightened rabbit, he jumped into the silence.

"Can I… " he started, clearing his throat, "Kyoko-chan…" Her expression twisted and her hurriedly amended his address. "Mogami-san, I realized that last night I never apologized. So I would like to do so now. I didn't try hard enough to tell you the truth. I should have told you a long time ago, and I'm sorry. I… don't deserve your forgiveness… and I understand if you want your revenge on me… just… just please, don't quit acting."

At that her eyes rose from contemplating her shoes and focused on his face. "It never crossed my mind to quit acting," she said simply. Then she fell silent, so did he. He'd never felt so awkward or anxious before. He had a brief flash of memory: of waiting with his father on Christmas morning for his mother to unwrap a present. His father had been fidgeting and anxiously pacing, unable to hide his fear that she might not like her present. Was this the feeling his father got at that time? The feeling of wanting to jump out of his own skin with nervousness?

"Do you hate me?" he asked quietly, not sure if he wanted to hear her answer.

Incredibly, she took a tiny step closer to him. His breath caught in his throat as he looked down at her flushed face and luminous eyes.

"I did," she said with her usual honesty, "right after the press conference… and maybe even when you showed up at the Darumaya. I was… very sad and hurt for a long time." She bit her lip. "I am still hurt, but… I remembered… that I also deceived Tsuruga-san—I mean, H-Hizuri-san—and… and I didn't think I had a right to be as angry when you should be angry at me as well."

Kuon cocked his head. "How have you deceived me?"

If it was possible, her face turned even more red. "IamthechickenBo!" she said in a rush.

He blinked. "Come again?"

She took a deep breath, looking frightened but determined. "I. Am. The. Chicken. Bo. From TBM."

Kuon's mouth fell open.

"You…?"

She nodded.

"The whole…" He ran a hand through his hair. "How… how long?"

"Since the first time that you and Bo met, and he—I—helped you with understanding that line in the script you were having trouble with." Her hands were twisting in front of her, the tips of her ears—the only part of her face he could see—bright crimson.

"Well…" he said, then paused, not sure what he was going to say. "I guess... we both kept secrets too long."

She nodded, peeping up at him shyly.

"Now boarding flight 208 to Los Angeles," said a voice over the intercom.

"I wish… I wish I wasn't leaving just now," he said with a glance back toward the boarding area. "I would have liked to sit and talk with you about this for awhile. I owe you more than just a last minute apology."

"Well, I've been saving for a plane ticket to visit sensei," she said with small smile. "I guess you'll be there too, huh? The real boy Kuon..."

"Will you be happy to see me again?" he asked.

"Yes... but I'm still angry with you," she said, folding her arms across her chest. "You didn't even tell me that you were leaving."

"I'm sorry," he winced. "It… well, it was all connected to my true identity, so I clammed up about everything." He cocked his head smiling. "Would it help if I dogeza?"

Kyoko's eyes widened in horror. "You… what? No! What are you doing?" she hissed as Kuon obediently knelt down in front of her, pressing his forehead to the cool tile floor.

"Mogami Kyoko-san…" he said, breathing out so that his breath fogged up the shiny tile in front of his eyes. "Please accept my apology," he said, his voice somewhat muffled. He felt her tugging on his arm but refused to budge.

"Okay! Okay! As long as you get up," she said, sounding mortified.

He let her pull him to his feet, taking a chance to reach out for one of her hands, rubbing his thumb along her knuckles.

"You…" she shook her head, pressing her free hand to her heated cheek. "I can't believe you did that." She looked up at him, seeing his quizzical expression. "What?"

He let go of her hand. "If you're Bo… you know, then…"

Kyoko blinked. "Know what?"

He looked at her. Was she being coy? But… no, her eyes were wide and guileless as always. It had been awhile since he'd spoken to Bo. Had she forgotten?

"How I feel about you," he said, heart thumping. "I mean, you haven't run away from me this whole time… Does that mean…? No, sorry, that's stupid of me. I understand if you don't feel the same way… especially after what just happened, but maybe someday…"

He trailed off. Her face was becoming so red he started to become worried. "Kyoko-chan?"

She began shaking her head, wrapping her arms around herself. "No, no, no… it's not me… it was another girl…"

"Kyoko-chan?" He hesitated. "Did you… have you thought this whole time that it was someone else I was in love with?"

Her tear-filled eyes lifted to his and he saw, he understood, and his joy seemed to well up inside him, filling that black hole of misery that had been sucking on his soul since the press conference, filling it to overflowing, and he knew he was about to burst with the light that was inside him. He was going to do something stupid like kiss her or laugh out loud, something uncharacteristic of Tsuruga Ren, but something that Hizuri Kuon completely approved of—

"Last call, boarding flight 208 to Los Angeles," said an announcement.

Kuon cursed under his breath and grabbed her hands again. "We need to talk about this… about everything. Will you start answering your phone when I call now?"

She choked out something between a sob and a laugh, nodding as her chin wobbled.

"I'll call you when I land, okay?" He did a quick mental calculation. "It's a ten hour flight so, it'll be around one o'clock in the afternoon here, I think."

She nodded again, apparently too woozy to speak as she swayed on her legs.

Kuon reluctantly left her where she stood, hurrying back to Yashiro who was literally bouncing with glee at the scene he'd just witnessed, and grabbed his carry-on.

"Corn!"

He stopped on his way to the gate, looking back over his shoulder. She ran up to him, and threw her arms around him. Kuon sucked in a breath of air in surprise but held her tightly.

"Ask me to stay and I will," he murmured in her ear.

She drew back slightly. "No," she said, searching his face. "I won't be selfish… I won't make you hate me by becoming a stupid woman who only needs her… a boyfriend to be happy."

"Boyfriend, hmm?" he said, grinning down at her.

She responding by burying her face in his shoulder again.

"Please be careful," she said softly.

He pressed his lips to her temple and to her cheek, knowing she wasn't ready for anything more—especially in public—and released her.

"I will," he promised, and turned back to the gate and the impatient airport attendant.

#

Kyoko stood watching as the plane beyond the window taxied past until she could no longer see it. She pressed her hand against the glass in a static wave, imagining that Ren—_no, not Ren and not Corn either_, she reminded herself, _Kuon_—was also looking out his tiny airplane window and could see her.

He had seen her before he left; truly seen her in a way no one ever had before. For the first time, there had been no lies between them, no masks, no roles. It felt… terrifying. And wonderful. She tucked those conflicting emotions back into her heart for later when she had the privacy to examine them. For now, she would just enjoy the warm feeling that had spread through her when he'd hugged her. Her fingers reached up to her cheek where the imprint of his mouth still tingled.

A light step behind her. "That," sighed the President happily, "was nearly as good as I hoped it would be. If only that blasted gentleman hadn't restrained himself… true love's first kiss would have been a better parting gift."

Kyoko blushed, turning to bow slightly in her employer's direction. "Thank you for paying my way to get here. I didn't even think about needing a ticket to get past the gate. I… hope it didn't cost you very much… I can pay you back."

Lory waved a hand, brushing aside her offer, still smiling happily. "No need, no need. Seeing my plans come to fruition is payment enough, Mogami-kun."

Kyoko raised her eyebrows, mouth forming a small "o".

"Plans?" she repeated. "You mean…" She thought about that awful confession he'd wrested from her before the Tragic Marker shooting in Guam, and the unexpected way he had appeared with a ticket ready for her when she'd shown up at the airport, though she'd been too frantic at the time to question it. "You _knew _about Tsuru—his … his…"

"His love for you?" finished the President happily. Kyoko blushed. "Yes, I knew. But the harder part was getting you two to admit it to each other." He rubbed his hands together in glee. "And it's finally, _finally _happened! I need to throw you a graduation party, Mogami-kun! But," he interrupted himself, a frown suddenly appearing on his face, "what are you going to do now that Kuon has left Japan?"

Kyoko turned back to the window, her face settling into a determined expression that Lory knew signaled the advent of something truly remarkable.

"Well, the only thing I can do is become a better actress so that someone in Hollywood notices me too."

Lory glanced at the fire in her eyes and folded his arms across his chest, smiling.

-end-


End file.
